


Restricted Benefits

by AnotherHomosexualMale



Category: Real Person Fiction, Tenet (2020)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Drunk Sex, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Gay Sex, Interracial Relationship, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, On Set, Oral Sex, Rimming, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:38:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24650170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherHomosexualMale/pseuds/AnotherHomosexualMale
Summary: If there are rules for being friends with benefits, they're probably breaking every single one of them.
Relationships: John David Washington/Robert Pattinson
Comments: 13
Kudos: 129





	Restricted Benefits

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah... Quarantine makes horny people do stupid things. I've been impossibly horny for days now.

John screws his eyes shut, hands fisted in the pillow under his head, and pushes back against Robert in an attempt to get him even deeper, even though Robert is already so deep, filling him up so good. Each thrust forces breathless little gasps out of John and he feels the pleasure build deep in his belly, so sharp it's almost painful.

"Yes, yes," he pants, and Robert fucks into him even harder, burying himself in John over and over.

John comes with a silent cry, echoed by a throaty moan from Robert. His muscles feel like jelly and he collapses onto the mattress, sweaty and fucked-out. Robert goes with him, his weight pinning John down, and John turns his face, panting.

"Fuck," he mutters, smiling, pleasure humming through him. Robert makes a noise of agreement and shifts on top of him, lifting up and pulling out of John.

"Shit," he says. "Shit."

It's not the words you want to hear right after sex, especially not in that panic-edged voice, and John cranes his head back.

"What?" he asks, the worried look on Robert's face killing the buzz of his orgasm almost immediately.

"Condom broke," Rob says, his brows creased.

"Oh," John says. "Okay."

Robert frowns at him. He pulls the condom off his dick, tossing it aside carelessly, and then collapses onto the bed next to John. "Okay?" he echoes, his voice still strained.

John hums and shifts closer, pressing up against Robert's side. Sweaty and gross as they are, he smiles contently when Robert wraps his arms around him and tugs him in against him.

"I'll get the morning after pill tomorrow," John mocks and brushes a sloppy, tired kiss against Robert's neck before pushing his nose into the same spot. "Make sure there won't be any little babies running around any time soon."

"Funny," Robert says and slaps his arm before sighing. "It's just. You know..."

"What?" John prompts. "You're worried I'm not clean?"

He can't help but feel a little offended. He's not some random guy Robert picked up at a bar, he's John. Robert should know him well enough, trust him enough, to know he wouldn't be sleeping with Robert without disclosing if he had any STDs.

"Of course not," Robert replies, running his hand up and down John's arm. He kisses the top of John's head, and it feels a bit like Robert is trying to soothe a spooked animal—but John is getting some cuddling out of it, so he's okay with that.

"Are you not clean?" John asks, more exasperated than accusing, because he trusts Robert.

"Jesus, John. Of course I am," Robert mutters.

John sighs, not unhappily. "Then what's the big deal?" he prods. "Because you're killing the afterglow, man."

"Well, sorry," Robert snarks, not sounding sorry at all. "I guess it's just something that's ingrained in my head. To always be careful, use protection."

John pats Robert's chest, nodding. "Well, it's not a big deal. Not when it's with me anyway."

"Yeah."

"Yeah? Okay? Can you shut up and start kissing me then?" John asks teasingly. "Unless you want to whisper dirty shit into my ear, I'd be okay with that."

"Sometimes I wonder if the sex is worth having to put up with you…" Robert says teasingly, drawling his English accent, but he tightens the arm he has wrapped around John's shoulder as he says it, sliding his other hand down John's back.

John snorts. "Oh, please," he says. "You know it's so worth it. And you love putting up with me anyway."

"Meh," Robert says.

John pinches Robert's side, grinning when Robert yelps.

"You're a menace, Washington…" Robert complains, but John can hear the smile in his voice and he's still rubbing John's back. John bites back a yawn and turns his face further into Robert's neck while worming one leg between Robert's.

"Sleep now," he murmurs, and Robert huffs in amusement but doesn't say anything else.

John doesn't even question if he's going to stay anymore—Robert didn't at first, the first few times they fucked. But unless they have to get up at different times or one of them is in a funk and wants some space, they usually both crash in whatever bed they end up in these days. It's convenient and John thinks the casual arrangement they have feels less skeevy than it would if Robert fucked him and then slipped out of the room the moment they finish. And this way, he gets some post-sex cuddles. John honestly doesn't know if Robert enjoys that part as much as he does or if he's just indulging John, because he knows how much John seeks out physical affection, but John doesn't look into it too deep, too damn happy with the way things are between them. He gets amazing orgasms regularly and a warm body to drape himself over afterwards and it's with Robert.

He could honestly do this for the rest of his life. And that's another thing he chooses not to look into too much, John thinks muzzily as he drifts off into sleep, enclosed in the circle of Robert's arms.

* * *

John tips his head under the hot spray, letting the water slick his curly hair back.

He hears the door to the bathroom open and then shut again and a couple of seconds later the shower's glass partition is pulled open. John shudders at the rush of cooler air against his skin but doesn't flinch when Robert steps up behind him. He presses in close, his chest to John's back and his cock nudging against the crack of John's ass, and wraps his arms around John, resting his hands on his belly.

"Morning," John says, and Robert yawns and kisses his shoulder. He doesn't reply and John knows Robert probably needs a few more moments for his brain to wake up, so he just relaxes back against Robert and reaches for the shower gel.

He's soaping up his chest, working around Robert's hands, when Robert sighs against his shoulder.

"We should get tested," he says, loud enough to be heard over the rush of water, even though his voice still sounds thick and low with sleep.

John groans. "I thought we went over this last night?"

"Yeah," Robert agrees and swipes his hand over John's chest, gathering some of the suds and spreading them lower. "But still. Not because I think either of us has anything. But it just seems like the responsible thing to do."

He has that tone, the one that John is already familiar with. That tells him Robert has already made up his mind and there's no arguing with him, because he's decided it's for the best. Specifically, for John. It's the same tone he used when he told John he should have at least one piece of fruit with lunch every day, because it's healthy, and John has been sticking to that rule since their first scene together now.

John sighs. "Okay," he agrees, and Robert kisses his shoulder sweetly.

He ruins the moment a second later when he says, "I really need to pee."

John twists out of Robert's arms and turns around. "No. Not while you're in the shower with me, man." he says firmly.

Robert wrinkles his nose and John can tell he's about to argue, so he shakes his head. "No. Out," he orders and points at the glass door.

Rob rolls his eyes and lets out a hot stream of piss towards the other man’s butt. John protests and moves his body pressing himself against the wall. Robert laughs hysterically as his uncut penis keeps leaking warm piss under the shower. It takes John a few seconds of angrily squirming and screaming, but since they are under running water, he decides to just go along with it and ends up smiling as Robert hugs him tenderly between playful laughs. “You’re fucking disgusting, Pattinson…”

With any of his past girlfriends or boyfriends, they would have known to use a different bathroom or wait until John was done showering, because John has always drawn the line at listening to a significant other use the bathroom.

But he and Rob aren't in a relationship, and somehow that makes John feel a little less squeamish about the whole thing. There are a lot of lines that have become muddled with Robert, a lot of inhibitions John doesn't feel around him. A lot of things he does with Robert that he never did with his exes, because with them John always held back a little, always kept a wall up.

Robert rubs his soapy ass, grinning up at him. "Was that really too bad, princess?" he asks.

John rolls his eyes, but lets Robert pull him close by the hips. "You ever think we're maybe too close?" he asks as Robert slicks his wet hands down his back, settling them just above John's ass.

"Hmm, Ben Affleck and Matt Damon were _maybe_ too close," Robert replies. "We're definitely too close."

It's said with a grin and Robert leans up and kisses him, silencing any response John could come up with.

* * *

They both set up appointments for later the following week—at different clinics, because there are already way too many rumors about them, and John doesn't want to get yelled at by his manager. Again.

John isn't really worried about it. He's gotten tested regularly for the past few years and he's always been safe. He's only had two one-night stands in his life and everyone else he's had sex with has been someone he's been in a committed relationship with, save for Robert. But Robert is a completely different story anyway, because he's both a fuckbuddy and John's favorite person in the world right now, and John hasn't been with anyone else ever since they started this thing, either. So he knows he doesn't have anything to worry about, that he's just getting tested because Robert has got it in his head that they should.

Something is definitely up with Robert though. He doesn't seem worried or scared, but he's acting differently that week. On Tuesday morning, he comes into the kitchen just as John is starting to fix himself breakfast, and kisses him. While that's not something they do all the time, it's not entirely unusual either—what is unusual is that Robert doesn't stop. He manhandles John against the counter and then freaking lifts him up on top of it, and continues to kiss him. They make out, all dirty and heavy, until their car gets there and they make their driver wait another five minutes while they make themselves look at least somewhat presentable, and then they both have to grab breakfast from catering before heading to wardrobe and make-up.

That night, Rob is on John the moment they get home and he fucks John right there in the hallway, as if he can't wait to have him.

On Wednesday, John finally decides he's had enough. They're in his trailer, having lunch and going over the scene they're shooting next, and Robert has been sneaking glances at him for the past twenty minutes. His expression is both thoughtful and heavy with desire, and it's more than a little distracting. They never do anything on set; it's one of the very few rules they ever decided on, that the only place they'd ever have sex or even so much as kiss would be at home, behind closed doors. But right now, Robert is making it really hard for John—literally—and John needs him to stop.

"What's up with you?" John asks and stretches one of his legs out on the couch, kicking Robert's thigh.

"Nothing, sweetheart." Robert replies, giving him a puzzled look. He's a good actor, a great one, but John is even better at seeing right past Robert's bullshit.

"Rob…" he warns.

Robert huffs out a little breath. "Just…" he starts. "Been thinking ‘bout something."

"'bout what?"

Robert licks his lips and looks down at the script in his lap and then back up at John. "You ever done it without a condom?" he asks.

"Uh, no," John says, rubbing the back of his neck. "My first two girlfriends weren't on the pill or anything and it just… never really crossed my mind with them. Have you?"

"A few times," Robert says, and John isn't really surprised, given how Robert reacted the other night. Robert can be reckless, can do some crazy shit—especially if he's hanging out with some of his buddies from back home or has had a few too many drinks—but he's pretty responsible when it comes to stuff like that.

"You ever wanted to? With me?" John prods, because he has an inkling about where Robert is going with this.

"Not really," Robert says, looking hesitant. "Not until now."

"Yeah?" John asks, and the thought makes his breath get stuck in his throat. He shifts, pulls his leg back up against him because his cock is definitely starting to chub up a little at the idea. He knows it's supposed to feel pretty damn good—if porn is to be believed anyway—and having Robert bare inside of him, all hot and thick, is definitely something he can get behind. Or in front of, really.

"If you want to," Robert says roughly and shrugs. "We don't have to. I know we're not… it just crossed my mind."

"No. I mean, yes. I wanna," John says.

Robert regards him for a moment, then gives a little hum of agreement and nods. "After we get the tests results back."

"Yeah, of course," John agrees.

"Okay, cool," Robert says casually, as if they just agreed to have a beer together after work or go see a movie, not stop using condoms.

"Cool," John echoes stupidly.

* * *

On Friday, John comes home from set a few hours after Robert. The dogs greet him at the door and he spends a few minutes petting them and getting his face and hands licked before he goes to find Rob.

Robert is in the kitchen, stirring what looks like pasta sauce in a pot, his cell wedged between his shoulder and ear. "Probably not until Christmas, mate," he says to whoever he's talking to and turns his head towards John, giving him a little grin.

John mouths "hey" and then goes to grab a beer for himself. He takes a few deep gulps and then goes to join Robert at the stove.

"I know, but we're just too busy," Robert says into the phone. He makes a face at John, rolling his eyes, and John bites back a laugh.

"Need help?" he asks quietly, so only Robert hears him.

Robert smiles and waves his hand at a baking sheet with garlic bread and then the oven that's already pre-heating. John sees the little band-aid in the crook of Robert's arm then, the small bruise that's formed around it, and he remembers that Robert had his appointment at the clinic that day. The thought makes his stomach swoop hotly and he swallows, willing his cock not to get hard.

They haven't talked about it since the conversation in the trailer two days ago, but they've both been pretty riled up since. Usually, they rarely hook up during the week, their filming schedule too busy, but Robert slept in John's bed the past two nights and they crammed in a quick fuck this morning, too.

He tries to remind himself not to build the whole thing up too much in his head; it probably won't feel drastically different and it won't change anything between them, either.

There's a little voice inside him though that insists that it's a pretty big deal, especially since he's now aching to do this with Robert when he's never really wanted to with any of his exes. He'd been happy with them, satisfied, but there's something about Robert that just makes his brain go offline and makes him go crazy with want sometimes. Makes him want to do all kinds of wonderful, dirty things that he's never done before.

Maybe it's because, underneath his somewhat reserved exterior, Robert is pretty kinky—definitely more so than any of John's other partners—and a lot more experienced than John. And it makes John want to try things, too. Makes him want Robert to show him all the things he's been missing out on. And it's a trust thing, too. He trusts Robert, feels safe and comfortable with him, and whatever Robert has suggested so far, John has never felt any reservations with him.

Barebacking, though. That's pretty intimate, even for them. But instead of getting scared by that it just sends a thrill through John.

John bites down on his bottom lip, unable to stop the heat from pooling in his stomach now. As Robert wraps his conversation up, John finishes his beer and then decides they need something a little harder to drink tonight.

Robert has said his goodbyes and is turning the sauce down to a simmer when John puts the bottle of tequila and two shot glasses on the counter next to him.

Robert's lips quirk up into an amused grin and he shoots John a look. "You got plans for us tonight, big guy?"

"It's Friday," John says with a shrug.

Robert snorts. "Okay. Just one and then we'll get you some food," he says, and John smiles widely and pours them both a shot while Robert goes to grab lime and salt.

"Who was on the phone?" he asks as Robert cuts them each a wedge of lime.

"Tom," Robert says and gives a small sigh. "He wants me to come to London and hang out, but I'm just not feeling like traveling when we barely have any free time as it is."

"Yeah," John agrees and takes the wedge Robert holds out to him. "He could come visit."

Robert sprinkles salt onto his hand, grimacing, and then puts some onto John's hand as well. "And then I'd have to go out and do stuff," he says. "I like spending half the weekend on the couch and the other half in bed."

"Yeah, and I'm not inviting him into bed with us," John teases.

Robert laughs and picks up his shot glass, holding it up. "Cheers to that," he says, and they toast each other before licking the salt off their hands, downing the shots and then sucking on the limes. The alcohol burns down John's throat, and he makes a face at the sourness of the lime before coughing a little.

"We're becoming hermits," he points out.

Robert shrugs. "We work a lot, we're allowed, aren’t we, luv?" he says. "I can take you out for a night on the town tomorrow and we can tell people we were being social, if you want."

"Oh, you can take me out, huh?" John mocks and bats his eyelashes at Robert.

Robert grins and pats John's cheek. "Awww, you know I love being seen with a pretty little thing like you on my arm, darling," he drawls. "And if you're a good boy, I'll take you home and make you scream my name."

"Or we could just do that," John says, squirming a little.

Robert laughs. "Yup, sounds like a much better plan," he agrees. "Come on, grab two plates while I drain the pasta and we can have dinner."

"And then more tequila," John adds.

"And then more tequila," Robert echoes.

* * *

They get sloppy drunk that night—the kind where Rob’s accent get thicker and his grin gets lazy and John's laughter turns into giggling.

They don't make it to either of their bedrooms for the first round. The couch isn't big enough for two guys their size—at least not when they're drunk and uncoordinated—so Robert pushes the coffee table out of the way and spreads John, naked and achingly hard already, right out there on the floor. He licks tequila out of John's navel while he fingers him open and then he pulls his fingers out and replaces them with his tongue instead. He eats John out until he comes with a hoarse scream, and then he turns John over onto his belly and fucks him all deep and lazy, murmuring into John's ear how pretty he is, how good he is for him, his voice slurred and his breath smelling like tequila.

Afterwards, he drags John into his bedroom and then fucks him again. John doesn't have a third orgasm in him, but it still feels damn amazing, having Robert's thick cock splitting him open, making him feel so damn full and wanted and owned.

* * *

"I'd say I'm never getting pissed again, but we both know that'd be a big fat lie," Robert mutters the next morning, face pressed into the curve of John's neck.

John groans, not daring to lift the arm that's covering his eyes yet. "I have to go let the dogs out," he says, and just the thought of getting up makes his stomach roll.

"Sucks to be you, mate…" Robert replies, smug despite how horrible he sounds.

"I hate you," John says and finally heaves himself out of bed. Being up is about as miserable as John expected it to be and he's relieved when he's hustled the dogs back inside from the backyard, filled their bowls with kibble and they're both quiet and happy again. He grabs two bottles of water from the fridge and then staggers back to Robert's room.

There's a bottle of painkillers sitting on the nightstand that wasn't there before and Robert is fast asleep again, snoring.

"Thank you," John mumbles anyway and grabs the painkillers, swallowing a few before sinking back down onto the bed gratefully.

They finally make it out of bed around 2 p.m., John's stomach growling and Robert's headache, John suspects, more due to caffeine-deficiency than a hangover by now. They move from the kitchen to the couch, armed with food and water and coffee, and spend the rest of the day curled up on opposite ends of it.

John gets up to go for a short walk around the neighborhood with the dogs in the evening and Robert orders pizza for them in the meantime and then they go back to the couch, watching The Truman Show (John's choice) and then My Fair Lady (Robert's choice). John falls asleep halfway through the second movie and Robert nudges him with awake with a murmured, "Bedtime, John."

"'s late?" John slurs, brain fuzzy.

"Yeah, it's late, luv," Robert replies and nudges him a little more firmly. "Come on, up you go."

John makes an unhappy noise but he pulls himself off the couch, the blanket Robert must have covered him with slipping off his lap, and mumbles good-night before he heads upstairs.

After several nights with Robert right there, the bed feels strangely empty without him. Spreading out smack in the middle doesn't feel as satisfying as he remembers.

* * *

John bundles up and goes on a hike with the dogs the next day, which Robert begs out of in favor of continuing his weekend of laziness.

"I'm gonna have to surgically remove your ass from the couch tomorrow," John warns teasingly before he leaves.

Robert, who is indeed sprawled out on the couch again, this time armed with a script, grins at him. "You should be so lucky as to get to touch my ass."

"I already do. All the time," John replies, rolling his eyes. "See you later then."

"Yup," Robert says, popping the 'p' obnoxiously. "I'll be right here."

And he is when John returns. After a whole day of lying around yesterday, John feels too antsy to join him again, full of pent-up energy. He makes them some sandwiches for lunch and then putters around the apartment for a bit before he decides to go work out in the home gym for a while. He pushes himself until he's sore and exhausted but content and then takes the longest, hottest shower known to man.

He attempts to make dinner afterwards, but when he almost slices his finger off trying to cut an onion, he gives up and orders in.

"What are we having?" Rob asks, strolling into the kitchen just as John hangs up the phone.

"Thai," John says and holds up the finger that's now wrapped in a band-aid, a bit of red seeping through in one spot. "I tried to make lasagna for us, but I failed."

Robert snorts. "Poor baby boy," he says and moves in closer. He takes John's hand in his and brings it to his mouth, skimming his lips over John's knuckles.

John's stupid heart skips a beat in his chest and he swears Robert is looking at him knowingly.

Robert closes the last bit of distance between them and catches John's mouth in a kiss. "We got some time to kill until food gets here," he says in a low voice.

It shouldn't be enough for John to start getting hard, but damn if he doesn't. "About an hour," he says, already leaning into Rob.

"Perfect," Robert says just before their lips meet again.

* * *

Filming is kind of horrible the next week and John has to continuously remind himself that he loves his job. Having Robert there with him makes it a whole lot easier, but there are still a lot of late nights that week, scenes that have to be redone more times than John thinks is strictly necessary, and waiting around in the cold while something or other needs to be adjusted.

John gets his results from the clinic on Monday and he leaves them on the kitchen counter where he knows Robert will see them. Robert doesn't comment, but two days later John finds Robert's results in exactly the same place on the counter. Clean bill of health, of course. It's a bright spot in a pretty shitty week—seriously bright—and just thinking about what getting their results back means sends heat through John.

It leaves him feeling a little bereft, though, unsure of what to do now. It feels like something they should make plans for, expect there's nothing to plan, because all they really need is lube and some time. John doesn't want it to be a quick fuck at the end of a long day though, because it is kind of a big deal, and judging by the fact that Robert doesn't initiate anything during the week, they seem to be on the same page.

John vaguely aims for Friday night, but work takes the decision out of his hands in the end when filming runs five hours late on Friday.

"Today was just bollocks," Robert complains when they finally get home. He has bags under his eyes, and John is pretty sure he doesn't look any better.

"The entire week was," John agrees, and Robert cups the back of John's neck, squeezes.

"Go get some rest, luv," he says, his voice gentle, sweet.

John sighs and Robert must read some of the disappointment on his face, because he leaves his hand on John's neck for a bit longer and leans in, kisses him briefly. "Tomorrow, okay?" he murmurs.

"Okay," John agrees.

Robert smiles, but snorts at the same time. "Drive me fucking crazy, John," he says quietly and then pulls back.

John isn't quite sure what he means by that, but it still makes him feel warm inside.

* * *

They both sleep half of Saturday away. John finally drags himself out of bed and gets dressed to go for a run with the dogs. By the time he comes back, Robert is up and dressed, putting a dirty mug in the dishwasher when John strolls into the kitchen. He's wearing boots and John can see the outline of his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans.

"Going somewhere?" John asks.

Robert closes the dishwasher and turns towards him, smiling. "Morning," he greets. "Yes. I have to go pick up a couple of presents for Christmas in town."

"Oh," John says. "Hey, if you give me thirty minutes, I'll grab a quick shower and get dressed and I'll join you. I still need to buy presents for, well, pretty much everyone."

"No," Robert says a bit gruffly.

"No," John echoes, feeling weirdly hurt by the rejection.

Robert huffs and then gives him a pointed look. "No, you can't come join me, John."

Realization dawns on John and his lips stretch into a wide grin. "Oh. You're buying presents for me."

"No, don't be ridiculous," Robert says, but he's grinning too. "Who said you're getting anything from me at all?"

"Right. Well, have fun buying presents that I can't know about for someone who definitely isn't me."

"Yup, I'll do just that," Robert says and then comes to kiss John. "See you later?"

"Hmm, yeah," John says and steals another kiss before Robert slips past him.

* * *

It's strange how John kind of doesn't know what to do without himself without Robert around, even if it's just for a few hours. He finally—reluctantly—decides to do some chores just to pass the time.

Housekeeping takes care of the worst of it, but there are some things that have probably been left undone for too long. So John changes his sheets and does two loads of laundry—throwing Rob's stuff in with his, because he's a good friend like that—and then decides to give making lasagna another try.

His fingers remain unharmed this time and John hums contently along to the radio as he stirs the meat sauce in the pan. It feels nice, keeping house for him and Robert, and John doesn't remember the last time he enjoyed being domestic this much. The kitchen looks a bit like disaster struck and the sauce doesn't taste quite as good as his mom's even though he followed her recipe diligently, but John's pretty pleased with himself anyway.

The lasagna is in the oven, half of the laundry is hanging neatly from the line in the laundry room while the other half is in the dryer, and the worst of the mess in the kitchen has been cleaned when Robert comes home.

"John?" Robert calls out.

"Kitchen," John replies loudly, putting the book he's been reading while keeping an eye on the oven down.

He listens to Robert's heavy steps as he heads for his room—probably to hide the presents, John thinks with a smile—before he comes to join him.

"Oh God, it smells fantastic," Robert says, glancing around. "Are you cooking?"

"Yup," John says, with a bit of pride. "My mama's lasagna. The inferior version of it, I'm afraid, but I think it's edible."

Robert sniffs the air again and hums. "Luv, this is the kind of dinner that deserves wine instead of beer, isn't it?"

"You pick something out," John offers, because Robert's much better at pairing food with drinks. John's been getting more and more into wine and whiskey and even good quality beer, all thanks to Robert, but he usually lets Robert pick things out at the liquor store and even restaurants.

"Alright," Robert agrees.

He comes back with a bottle and then gets a decanter from the cabinets. "I picked a Babera. That work for you?" he asks.

"Sure," John says, not even sure if he's ever had one. He remembers a bit about it from the book on wines that Robert bought him and he's pretty sure it's a good choice, but he probably would be happy with anything Robert picked. "Food should be done in about thirty minutes."

"Perfect," Robert says, pouring the wine.

The whole scenario—home-cooked dinner and fancy wine—isn't just domestic, it's downright romantic. John really can’t decide if that's nice or a bit odd, considering he's pretty sure he's gonna be ass up in one of their beds in a few hours, getting fucked without a condom for the first time. But their whole—relationship is a bit odd, probably. If there are rules for being friends with benefits, they've probably broken every single one of them already. But John can't really imagine doing it any other way, can't imagine not sharing a bed with Robert after sex, kissing and touching and murmuring soft words to each other, can't imagine having dinners that dangerously resemble dates, and going home together every single day. He can't imagine having sex with Robert without some kind of feelings being involved, because all of those lines of friendship and love and lust have been blurred between them.

Robert sets the wine aside and John watches him, smiling at the way Robert peers into the oven, looking soft and content and oh-so-wonderfully domestic in his washed-out jeans and thick sweater and his messy hair. Robert joins him at the counter then, spins John's stool so he can step into the open vee of John's legs, spreading them further apart.

Robert puts his fingers under John's chin, tipping his face up, and gently drags his thumb over John's lower lip. He's grinning, that small, soft grin that makes his eyes crinkle up, and John sighs quietly, contently.

"Thanks for cooking me dinner, John," Robert murmurs.

"Wait until you've had some," John warns teasingly, and Robert's grin gets a little bigger. He leans in, kisses John once, twice, and John's stomach flips.

He rests his forehead against Robert's chin, his hands on Rob's hips. "What'd you get me for Christmas?" he asks with a smile.

"Coal," Robert deadpans, nosing John's hairline. His stubble prickles against John's forehead and John laughs softly.

"Awesome," he says. "Just what I wanted."

Robert chuckles and cups John's face between his hands, bringing it up to his for another kiss. It's slow, but deep, Robert coaxing John's lips apart and brushing their tongues together. One of his hands slides back, fingers tangling in John's hair and when he tugs at it a little, John moans into his mouth.

They part with a soft, wet noise, but Robert stays close. "If you hadn't made dinner, I would be dragging you into my bedroom right now, sweetheart," he says, and the words as well as the term of endearment send a spark of arousal through John.

"We can skip dinner," he suggests.

"I don't want to have to stop and take a break because you're starving in an hour," Robert says with a small smirk. "We can be civilized adults and have a nice dinner without jumping each other, right?"

"I guess," John says in a put-upon voice.

* * *

John is hardly a chef and the lasagna isn't anything to write home about, but he feels pretty pleased with himself when Robert eats a second helping anyway, telling him several times that it's good.

They both sip their wine, but don't drink much, an unspoken agreement to not get tipsy tonight hanging in the air between them. They do the dishes together.

His stomach is in knots by the time they head upstairs to his bedroom and he isn't even sure why it feels so different. Whenever they go into one of their bedrooms together, it's usually with the intention to have sex, so tonight isn't really that different. It'll be pretty much like it always is between them, minus the condoms. But John actually feels nervous, in a way he's never felt with Robert, not even the first time.

Rob stops them in the doorway, pushes John up against the jamb and kisses him.

"John," he whispers and then dives in for a second kiss, deeper and longer than the first. John feels tension he didn't realize he was holding ease from his shoulders then, his body sinking into Robert the way he always does.

Robert's fingers find their way to the hem of John's t-shirt, smoothing over his skin just above the waistband of his jeans, his touch soft and teasing.

When they break apart, John shucks off the overshirt and t-shirt underneath—which he's only 50% sure is his and might actually be Robert's. Robert strips off his sweater and t-shirt as well and then pulls John back to him, effectively tugging him further into the room. As their lips find each other again, John fumbles blindly with the door and pushes it shut, and Robert's hands have already started undoing his jeans.

By the time John gets onto his bed, he's down to his boxer-briefs and he settles back into the pillows, spreads his legs for Robert to crawl between. He looks down at John, eyes roaming over John's dark skin, making John feel hot all over.

"You're gorgeous," Robert says.

John feels himself flush. "You don't have to butter me up," he says.

Robert hums and curls his hands around John's wrists. He brings them up, over John's head, and holds them there and then leans down, brushes his lips across John's jaw. "You're gorgeous," he repeats, more firmly, and John sighs.

He tips his head to the side, exposing more of his neck in a silent plea, and Robert kisses the hinge of his jaw, then the spot just beneath John's ear that makes his breath catch. He lets go of John's hands as he moves further down John's body but John leaves them there, curling his fingers loosely around one of the metal columns of the headboard. It makes him, briefly, remember the one time Robert tied him up just like this and he moans quietly.

"Shhh," Robert soothes, running his hands all the way down from his ribcage to his hips. He keeps them there, squeezing, as he kisses down John's neck. His teeth graze the skin where John's neck curves into his shoulder and John tosses his head back.

"Rob," he mumbles and Robert sucks on the same spot, just for a moment, not long enough to leave a hickey. It's one of the things John is dying for Robert to do, leaving his mark all over his body, but he won't ask for it until hiatus. But just the suggestion makes his stomach squirm, his dick achingly hard. He hitches his hips up, looking for some friction, and Robert pushes him back down, pinning him.

"Patience, my prince," he teases and kisses a damp path down John's collarbone.

"I'll show you prince," John mutters back nonsensically, and Robert laughs against his chest.

He ducks down, flicks his tongue over John's right nipple and then bites at it. John yelps at the sharp sting of pain and pleasure and he tries rocking up against Robert again futilely. Robert shushes him and closes his mouth over his dark nipple, alternatively suckling at it and running his tongue over it.

John is panting by the time Robert lifts his head a few moments later and he thinks he might lose it before Robert has even touched his cock if Robert doesn't hurry up. Robert seems to sense his impatience because he shifts lower, dropping kisses onto his skin in a straight path down his belly, until he reaches the edge of John's underwear. His chin is rubbing against John's cock now, and John moans brokenly.

Robert leans down farther, nuzzles John's cock through the fabric. "So big, luv," he murmurs, kissing him.

John squirms underneath Robert.

"Got the biggest, prettiest cock I've ever seen," Robert continues and then lifts his head, smirking up at John. "Just like the rest of you, huh, sweetheart?"

"Rob," John groans. He feels like he's burning up, strung-out and needy, and he hates and loves Robert for how much he likes getting John like this.

Robert hooks his fingers under the waistband of John's boxer-briefs and tugs them down, peeling them down his legs. "Have I ever told you that that's one of the hottest things about you?" Robert asks, almost conversationally, the bastard. He wraps his hand around John's cock and strokes it slowly.

"Wha'?" John manages, hard to talk or even think with Robert touching him.

"That you're so massive. Can't imagine a lot of people could get the upper hand on you," Robert says. "But you love letting me be in charge. You'd let me do anything to you and you take whatever I give you. Take it so beautifully, John."

It's not like it's news to John. He knows what he likes, knows every guy he's dated has been the type to take charge in the bedroom. And as much as he still likes girls, he's pretty much exclusively dated guys for the past few years because he loves getting fucked. Loves being manhandled and pinned down and filled. But knowing it turns Robert on so much makes a hot, dark thrill run through him. Makes all his inhibitions about what he likes, how he gets, fly out the window.

He lets his legs splay further, flushing at how exposed it leaves him and how hot that gets him.

Robert makes a strangled noise and he leans back down. He mouths at the head of John's dick and then ducks lower, hand holding rather than stroking John now. He nuzzles and kisses John's balls and then noses the spot behind them. Sparks shoot through John and he lets go of the headboard with a gasp to put his hands on Robert's head, though he doesn't apply any pressure. Robert laughs softly and John feels the vibrations go through him, and then he grabs the back of John's thighs with both hands and pushes his legs up and out, lifting his hips up off the mattress a bit, and dives in. He licks a stripe to John's hairy hole and circles it with his tongue before pressing it in.

John moans so loudly, he blushes with embarrassment, but it feels so damn good, Robert's tongue hot and wet, dipping into him over and over. " _Oh God. Robert…"_ he slurs.

"Don't come yet," Robert says. "Baby, I want you to come with me inside of you."

John pants and nods, pushing Robert's head away even though he really wants Robert to keep going, to eat him out until he's screaming. "Gotta stop then," he admits.

Robert pulls back, sitting up on his haunches, and nods. "Turn around," he says, his voice rough.

John scrambles to turn around and get up on his knees, his legs already feeling shaky. He leans down on his elbows, ass up in the air, knowing it's one of Robert's favorite positions.

"Fuck," Robert hisses and then he leans over John. John turns his head, watches Rob pull the drawer of his nightstand open and get the lube out. Just the lube. John almost forgot, and he bites down onto his bottom lip before any more embarrassing noises can spill out.

Robert makes quick work of getting him ready. He spreads lube around John's hole with two slick fingers and then slides one finger right inside, making John moan with how damn good it feels. Robert pushes in and out a few times and then goes right back in with a second.

" _God_ ," John groans, hanging his head and pressing his shoulders further down in an attempt to arch back more.

"Too much?" Robert asks, his voice all gravelly now and John fucking loves it when his voice gets like that.

"No. So good," he pants and rocks back when Robert starts to move his fingers. He twists them in and out, scissoring them inside of John, getting him loose and relaxed around him.

He teases a third finger over John's rim and John blinks sweaty bangs out of his eyes. "Please," he begs, shifting in an attempt to widen his stance.

Robert pulls out and then slides back in with all three fingers, slower this time. John feels the stretch of it, Robert's fingers thick inside of him, and when they brush against his prostate, John shudders.

"Don't. I'll come," he hisses, and Robert murmurs an agreement, cupping John's hip with his free hand as he continues to open John up, quickly and efficiently.

When he pulls his fingers out this time, John chews on his lower lip, anticipation making him tremble, his balls and cock aching.

Robert touches the small of John's back, fingers tacky with lube. "You’re sure about this, right, John?"

"God yes," John replies and cranes his head back, meeting Robert's gaze. He smiles and Robert returns it. When he picks up the lube, John turns his head back and takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down a little so he won't come the second Robert pushes into him.

When he feels the head of Robert's cock nudge up against his hole, he tenses for just a second. The air around them feels charged with anticipation, more so than usual, and he's glad when Robert palms his hip again with one hand, the touch grounding, before he starts pushing forward. John feels the pressure build, feels Robert press forward more and then in, and they both moan.

He sinks into John, slowly but steadily, burying himself inch by inch until his hips are pressed flush against John's ass.

" _Bloody_ _yes_ ," Robert hisses and grabs John by the hips with both hands, fingers digging in.

John is pretty sure he can't breathe, all the air pushed out of his lungs. Robert is so big inside of him, the stretch burning exquisitely, and maybe he's imagining it, but John thinks he feels hotter, feels better.

"Can I move, luv?" Robert asks, his voice strained, like he has to try hard to control himself.

"Please," John begs and rocks back before Robert has moved. Robert makes a strangled noise and then he draws away and pushes back in.

"You have no idea how good you feel," Robert pants, and John wants to know, wants Robert to tell him, but he's pretty sure the way he sounds would send him right over the edge.

Robert moves slow at first, like he's experimenting, and after a few times his thrusts get faster, smoother. His cock drags against John's prostate, the constant stimulation making him gasp and squirm, pushing back needily, his cock swinging with each hard thrust.

Robert is panting, groaning as he fucks John hard and deep, and his fingers press into John's hips, dragging him back to meet his thrusts. "Sweetheart, I can't… I'm gonna come. So bloody close," he gasps.

John curls his fingers into the pillow, head swimming with pleasure. "Do it," he says breathlessly, because he wants to feel it. Wants Robert to come inside of him.

Robert groans, hips snapping forward once, twice, and then he stills, buried deep in John as he spills. John feels it, the hot sticky wetness inside of him, and he moans loudly, rocking back onto Robert and chasing his own release.

"John," Robert slurs and then he shifts, hauls John back against him as he reaches around him. He wraps his hand around John's cock and it only takes two strokes before John comes, trembling and moaning as Robert jerks him through it.

They collapse onto the mattress together, Robert's weight pinning him down, and he brushes sloppy kisses against the curve of John's neck, murmuring his name. John feels like he's floating, pleasure buzzing through him.

Finally, Robert lifts up, cock slipping out of John, and John bites back the disappointed noise threatening to escape. They're a tangle of uncoordinated limbs as they shift around, arranging themselves until Robert is on his back and John is draped halfway over him.

"Good?" Robert asks, sounding all fucked out. He nuzzles John's hair, strokes a hand down his back, and John lets out a slow, quiet moan of satisfaction.

"Fucking A," he mumbles. "You?"

"Yeah," Robert says, and his hand slips lower, until he slides two fingers between John's cheeks, catching against his rim. John's used to the tacky feeling of lube, but he's wetter now and he feels some of the sticky mess that's trickled out.

It's dirty in a way that makes arousal spark anew inside him and he squirms. Robert makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a growl and he presses inside John, two fingers sinking in easily.

It's a little overwhelming, too much after he just came, but it's the most amazing feeling at the same time, and John hitches one leg up before he can think about it.

"Fuck, John," Robert murmurs and then laughs a little. "Don't think anything has ever felt this amazing in my life."

John's pretty sure if he wasn't still so out of it he'd preen, but as it is he just hitches his hips back shamelessly and gasps. Robert fucks his fingers in and out a few times, the wet squelching sound of come and lube mingling with the noises John is making. And then Robert hauls him up, presses his lips to John's in a fervent, desperate kiss.

Before long, John finds himself being flipped over onto his back, and Robert slides on top of him, coaxing his legs apart to settle between them. They make out heavily until they're both breathless and hard again and John is pretty sure neither of them have recovered so quickly in a long time.

Robert slicks himself up again and then he pushes John's legs up over his shoulder, almost folding him in half as he sinks right back into him to the hilt. John cries out and grabs Robert's shoulders, holding on as Robert starts thrusting.

They both last longer this time, moans muffled by kisses and the bedframe thudding against the wall rhythmically.

"You feel so good," Robert mumbles, eyes dark and wide, cheeks flushed. "You're so bloody amazing, John."

John can only utter Robert's name in reply and arch up into him.

He comes first this time, his orgasm almost taking him by surprise when it finally washes over him, and he's too out of it, shuddering through the aftershocks, to really note when Robert comes this time.

He feels it afterwards though, when Robert hauls him back into his arms. He's a mess, lube and come smeared between his cheeks and thighs. "Shower," he says in a slur.

"Tomorrow," Robert mumbles.

"Rob," John says, squirming a little. "'m all dirty."

"Tomorrow," Robert repeats, running a hand over the swell of John's ass and slipping between his legs, dragging through the mess. "Please?"

John flushes, but he nods in acquiescence. He's not sure he could get up and stand on his legs right now anyway.

* * *

"I'm fucking gross," John says bearily the next morning, after waking up tangled with Robert and being pulled into a lazy, slightly uncoordinated morning kiss. "I think I need ten showers before I can even leave the house."

"Why are we leaving the house?" Robert asks, ducking down and kissing the side of John's neck.

Robert hums and lifts his head again, brushes their lips together. John shifts into him, and somehow he still feels tacky between his legs, though enough of the mess has dried to pull uncomfortably at hairs.

"I think you're just the right amount of gross," Robert says, a teasing, smug smirk on his lips. "Think I'm gonna make sure you're like this all the time from now on."

"Robert," John scowls, though his insides feel all warm and fuzzy as if Robert just confessed his undying love to him. Not that he wants that. Probably. Maybe.

"You really telling me you don't like it?" Robert asks, taking John's chin between his thumb and forefinger, tapping the pad of his thumb against John's lip. "Don't like that I fucked you full of my cum last night and it's still there now? You probably reek like me, sweetheart."

John's breath catches and his cock is starting to fill rapidly. He licks his lips and presses in closer against Robert. "Who the hell taught you to talk like that?"

"Hmm, you're just that inspiring," Rob replies and grins slowly. "And we both know you love it."

"I do," John admits. "I still want a shower before I do anything else, though. It's not exactly comfortable."

Robert heaves a sigh, pretending to look put-upon. "Fine," he says. "I guess since I got you all dirty, I should help you clean up as well."

"Yeah," John murmurs quietly and presses a quick kiss to Robert's mouth before rolling out of bed. He makes a disgusted noise, because it really does feel a billion times worse than not cleaning up after sex with a condom.

Robert laughs and slaps his ass, and then untangles himself from the sheets and follows.

Robert does as he said he would, pulling John into his arms under the shower and taking over cleaning. He washes John's hair and then runs sudsy hands down his shoulders and back, spreads John's cheeks apart to let water sluice down between them before he follows the same path with his fingers, washing the mess between John's cheeks away and then sliding a finger into him while dragging him into a kiss. They come just from rubbing off on each other, two of Robert's fingers buried inside of John, and then they clean up properly.

* * *

"So," Robert starts over breakfast, which consists of coffee and cereal and a bowl of fruit while they sit at the kitchen island across from each other. "Last night. Was that a one-time deal or do you want to keep skipping the condoms?"

John almost chokes on a piece of strawberry and he coughs before swallowing. He hadn't really thought about that. Had kind of just assumed that that would be the way things are between them now, but of course that would mean they'd have to agree upon some things. Like probably not seeing other people, just to be safe. Or at least being brutally honest if they did see other people and something happened and John really doesn't want to know about any other guys Robert fucks, ever.

"What," he says and licks his lips nervously. "What do you want?"

Robert gives him a small, patient smile, one that John knows says I think you're an idiot and you're amazing at the same time. "I asked first," he says fondly.

John runs a hand over his face and sighs, knowing there's no other way to handle this than to talk, be honest. "Last night was amazing. And I want to keep doing it bare," he admits.

"But," Robert prompts.

"I just don't know how I feel about us not using condoms and seeing other people," John says, biting down on the corner of his bottom lip.

Robert nods. "Are you seeing other people?" he asks, and for once John can't really tell how Robert feels, his voice devoid of any emotions.

"No," John says quietly. "You know I don't… I'm not really into one-night stands and we're together all the time anyway. I—I haven't been with anyone but you since way before we started this."

"You know I haven't been with anyone but you since we first slept together either, right?" Robert asks, leaning forward a little.

"I didn't know that," John admits, and he can't help but feel happy that Robert hasn't been with anyone else. Robert has had a lot more casual hook-ups than he has, and while John knows he hasn't been out there, fucking around, all the time—mostly because they're together more often than not—he didn't know there hasn't been anyone else at all.

"Well, I haven't. There hasn't really been the need to," Robert says, giving him a pointed look. "Don't foresee that changing either."

John can't hold back a smile then. "Okay," he says.

"Okay," Robert echoes. "So, we don't need condoms for now?"

"No," John agrees and grins. "Just… let me know if that changes."

Robert looks like he wants to say something, but then he nods. "You don't have to worry about that right now, but yeah, I will. Same goes for you."

"Of course," John agrees, and snags another strawberry from the bowl between them, smiling.

* * *

Considering Christmas is supposed to be a time of joy and peace, it always baffles John how December always seems to the craziest month of the year. Between work and Christmas parties, he's already busy enough but then there are presents to buy and errands to run, and John feels like there isn't enough time left for him and Robert, just when he wants to spend time with him more than ever before.

They manage to sneak in nights together whenever they can, but it's usually more rushed than he wants it to be, both of them exhausted and busy, and there are more nights spend apart than John wants there to be. A few times, Robert joins John in the shower in the morning after John comes back from a run with the dogs and John isn't sure if he hears him come in or sets an alarm clock, but he's feeling a little smug that Robert wants him as much, as often, as he does, even if the quick handjobs or messy blowjobs don't quite satisfy his needs.

It's still not enough, though, and John can't wait for things to settle down.

For the first time in four years, John isn't looking forward to the holidays as much as for the holidays to be over, so he and Robert can go back to their regular schedule.

* * *

Things take another turn downhill when a stunt on set goes wrong a week before their Christmas break and John ends up getting tossed painfully, knocking into a table on the way down.

He lies on the ground, trying to catch his breath and waiting for the pain in his shoulder to ease, and when the first person rushes up and asks if he's okay, he can barely do anything more than grunt in pain.

There's more filming to do, though, so once John is back on his feet, he brushes off the question if he needs a medic and only takes a short break before he films again.

He and Robert have been filming separate scenes today, and while Robert had to be on set incredibly early while John got to sleep in, Robert got to leave early and John is suddenly more than ready to be done as well. So he grits his teeth and keeps working, hoping to get his final scene done quickly so he can go home. He pops a couple of painkillers between takes and hopes the pained grimaces work in favor of John’s angsting.

* * *

"How's the shoulder?" Robert asks when John comes home.

"Are you having people spy on me?" John shoots back jokingly and then winces when shrugging out of his coat makes his shoulder throb.

"You know it," Robert replies, his voice gentle and his brow furrowed. "Do you need to get it checked out?"

John grunts and shakes his head. "I stopped by the medic on set before I came home," he admits. "It's just bruised."

Robert doesn't look quite convinced, but he nods. "How about some food, a hot bath and then bed?" he suggests.

John agrees gratefully, happy to let Robert take charge and pamper him tonight. They both get banged up and bruised sometimes, but it never stops sucking, and a little TLC can do wonders.

John lets Robert hustle him towards the living room, sinking down on the couch while Robert gets them two plates of food that he ordered in earlier, a beer for each of them, and a bottle of water for John.

After a day mostly spent apart, John isn't eager to part again so he tries to ignore the throbbing in his shoulder for as long as he can. But Robert knows him too well, and when John starts shifting around, he sends him upstairs.

"Go take a hot bath, relax," he says and draws John into a quick kiss before patting John's hip and sending him on his way.

The thought of relaxing in the bathtub is too tempting for John to put up an argument, so he trudges upstairs. He runs a bath, making the water as hot as he can stand and adds some fancy looking bath oil that has been sitting around in his bathroom for a while and which John can't remember having bought.

He strips, wincing at the way some movements tug at his shoulder, and then sinks into the water with a sigh. He tries to slide in deep and has to bend his knees until they stick out of the water a little, to submerge most of his shoulders. It's not exactly comfortable, but the warm water feels nice. John tips his head back and sighs, feeling the heat ease some of the tension.

"John?"

John blinks his eyes open. Robert is hovering in the door, holding two tumblers with amber liquid.

"Want some?" he asks. "Or did you take anything too strong?"

"Nah, just some mild painkillers," John says and holds his hand out, dripping water onto the floor just outside the bathtub. "Didn't want to feel all fuzzy while filming."

Robert nods and steps closer, handing John one of the glasses. "Here. Might help you relax.".

"Thank you," John says. He takes a sip and sighs happily at the way the whiskey burns down his throat.

Robert sits down on the closed toilet seat, stretching his legs out, and takes a drink as well. "How do you feel?" he asks.

"Okay," John says.

"Let me see," Robert says and leans forward.

John blinks at him and then he sits up. He hears Robert suck in a breath.

"Shit, John, that looks pretty bad," he says. John took a peek in the mirror earlier and he knows his shoulder isn't looking great, a big bruise there that's already turning an impressive shade darker than his skin.

Robert comes to kneel by the tub and John holds still as Robert touches his shoulder, hand framing the bruise. He shudders when he feels Robert's lips touch the spot, gentle enough that it doesn't hurt.

"It looks worse than it feels," he admits and brings the tumbler up to take another gulp of whiskey.

"Still probably hurts like a bitch," Robert guesses and brushes John's hair towards the other side of his neck. "I still got that ointment they gave me last time I got banged up pretty good. I'll put some on your shoulder before you head to bed."

"Hmm, okay," John agrees, and when he feels Robert draw back, he eases himself back down into the water. Robert is still kneeling by the tub and he's got a fond, soft look on his face that makes John smile up at him.

"You're a good…" John starts and then stops himself, not really sure how to continue. He doesn’t know what exactly they are right now, because Robert isn't his boyfriend, but he's so much more than a friend. More than a best friend.

"A good what?" Robert prompts.

"Good Rob," John fumbles, and maybe the beer and whiskey and painkillers are affecting him a bit more than he expected. Robert laughs.

"There probably aren't a lot of Robs," he admits.

John shifts in the water and gives Robert a small grin. "Well, you're the best."

"Well, you're the best John," Robert replies, only slightly sarcastically.

"Hmm, there are probably quite a few more Johns than Roberts. There's possibly some stiff competition."

Robert leans in, shaking his head at him, and kisses him.

* * *

Robert's touch is gentle as he spreads the cream over John's shoulder. It smells a little funky, but it's cool and soothing against John's skin and Robert's hand feels nice. John tips his head forward, sighs and doesn't complain when Robert's touch lingers a little longer than probably necessary.

"Time to go to bed," Robert finally says and presses a kiss to John's nape. "Hopefully you'll feel better in the morning."

"'m sure I will," John says around a yawn and turns around. He catches Robert by the wrist. "Hey. Umm, you wanna stay? Maybe?"

Robert barely hesitates before he gives John a soft smile and nods. "Sure," he says.

They get ready for bed in companionable silence and it's a little awkward, because they never do this unless they've already fucked. They slide under the covers together and there's a bit of shifting around until John has found a position that works for his shoulder, his arm thrown over Robert's chest and leg tucked between Robert's.

"Okay?" Robert asks, fingers skimming over John's ribs and down to his waist.

"Yeah," John says. Robert pulls him a little closer then and kisses the top of his head.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

Robert shifts under him. "I talked to my mum earlier, while you were still on set," he says, his voice quiet and thoughtful. "She asked if you're coming to visit over the holidays."

"Oh. Sure, if you guys want me to?" John replies. "I haven't really thought about that yet. Haven't booked a flight yet or anything."

"Yeah, me neither," Robert admits. "But I was thinking, maybe we could head to New York for a couple of days, hang out with everyone there before we head to London."

"Sounds nice," John agrees.

"Hmm, and you can come to Barnes for a couple of days. I'll come see you in L.A., spend some time with your parents," Robert continues.

John's lips curl up into a smile. "Got it all figured out, huh?" he teases and moves a little. It makes his shoulder throb and he hisses. Robert curves his hand around his ribcage, shifts them so John is resting more comfortably on top of him again.

"Careful," he murmurs.

"Thank you," John says.

Robert hums, carding fingers through John's hair. "There's this other thing I was thinking about," he adds quietly. "We're hardly ever in L.A. and who knows if we'll be there after filming or somewhere else for some project. So since I'm living here with you while we film, maybe it'd make sense if you sold your house in Los Angeles and just moved into mine there."

"What?" John asks, the suggestion taking him by surprise, because that's not something they've ever talked about.

"Just a thought," Robert says. "You're barely ever there, so why have a house there when you have one here? And you put up with me here, so it's only fair if I return the favor."

John snorts. "Well, now I feel wanted."

"Hmm. I'm serious, though. Living together has been pretty good," Robert continues and John can hear the smile in his voice.

"It has," he agrees. "It's worth a thought. Kinda make sense."

"Good," Robert says. "You don't have to, but the offer stands if you want to… and I'd like having you there."

John grins to himself, the ache in his shoulder suddenly all but forgotten.

* * *

"I found a flight for us the day after we wrap," Robert says a couple of days later, pushing his feet under John's thighs and wriggling them. John looks up from his phone and at Robert who is occupying the other corner of the couch. "We could stay in London for three or four days and then head out to L.A. Tom mentioned some party; I don't remember where, but he said we should come, that it'd be great."

"He says that about every party," John replies.

"Well, yeah," Robert says with a quirked smile. "Half of the time he's right, half of the time he's horribly wrong. But no risk, no fun, right?"

John chuckles. "Yeah, guess so," he says. "Sounds good. I, uh, thought maybe I could contact a real estate agent, see if it makes sense to sell."

"Yeah?" Robert says, and John can tell he's trying not to break out into a grin.

"Well, it might be a good idea. Financially and stuff," John says.

"Of course," Robert agrees. "So. I'll book those flights for us and then we can look for flights to L.A. a few days later? Have you talked to your parents yet?"

"Not yet, but I'm sure they'll be fine." John says and then flushes. "I mean, not quite the same thing, but…"

"No, yeah, I know what you mean," Robert says and grins a little. "Whatever works for you and your parents, John."

"Okay," John says and reaches for Robert's feet, curving his hand around the back of Robert's left heel. He feels utterly content in that moment, with Robert close by, knowing they'll be wrapping soon and that he'll spend the holidays with Robert, maybe even the entire break if he can get up the nerve to ask Robert about his New Year's plans. He thinks maybe they will, either way.

* * *

They watch cartoons in bed on the ridiculously huge TV in Robert's bedroom. It’s been about a month since Quarantine started, sipping coffee.

The interior designer that helped John with his house gave him this whole spiel about why TVs in bedrooms are a bad idea for a person's energy, but this makes John seriously reconsider that decision.

John catches the hand Robert has resting on his shoulder in his and tangles their fingers, bringing them to his lips to kiss Robert's knuckles, smiling. Robert looks at him, lips turned up, still looking sleepy, his hair soft and messy, his skin a little pale and eyes not quite alert yet. He looks happy, though, completely relaxed.

John leans in and kisses him, smiling against his mouth. They part with a quiet snick and Robert steals another kiss.

"I think maybe we should tell some people about us," he murmurs quietly. "Just our family and close friends."

"Yeah?" John asks.

"I don't wanna pretend to be your friend when we're back home," Robert admits. "And I wanna steal you away for New Year's, if you want to, and I don't want to field a thousand questions about why I won't attend some party or another from my friends."

"Steal me away where?" John prods, grinning.

Robert shrugs, the movement of his shoulders jostling John a little. "Wherever you want," he says. "Somewhere with a beach. Or maybe we could go camping for a few days, get a cabin in Scotland or something."

"Camping sounds nice," John says a little wistfully. "Burn off all those pounds we'll probably put on over the holidays on the slopes and then warm up in front of a fireplace."

"Yeah," Robert agrees.

John smiles at him. "We've never taken a trip together, not unless it was for work or to go home together."

"There are lots of things we haven't done together yet," Robert points out.

"Yeah," John says and then snorts, amused. "And yet this won't really change things between us much at all."

"Not really," Robert agrees and he scoots down, pulling John down with him. "That's pretty good, right? None of the new relationship awkwardness and stuff."

"Yeah," John says and Robert hauls him into a kiss. It's slow and sweet and when they break apart, Robert runs his thumb over John's cheek.

"You're kind of perfect," he says quietly.

"I'm really not," John argues, rolling his eyes even as he starts grinning.

"Hmm. You're too damn hyper sometimes and you eat so much we'll never be able to retire and your farts are probably a weapon of mass destruction," Robert says. "You're still perfect."

"Robert," John murmurs a little exasperatedly.

"Me on the other hand," Robert continues with a little smirk, "I'm one of those stupid, uncouth beta males. I get possessive and I'll probably forget our anniversary and I'll never buy you flowers. Think you can put up with that?"

"I can probably manage," John says and heaves a sigh. "I mean, you are really good in bed."

"I am?" Robert asks, raising one eyebrow. "Maybe I should remind you of that, just in case."

"Maybe you should shut up and kiss me," John counters.

Robert nudges John over onto his back and climbs on top of him. "My pleasure," he murmurs.

And yeah, John is pretty sure he can put up with this for a damn long time.


End file.
